Enchant
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: "Because there's a story that ought to be heard."- Emilie Autumn:: Collection of drabbles and one shots inspired by the Emilie Autumn album of the same name. 10. Phoebe prides herself in being unmarriable.
1. Ever

_"So I reach for your love like the moon and the stars._

_Ever in my sight, ever out of reach."_

_-Emilie Autumn, 'Ever'_

"Who are you all dressed up for?" Parvati asks, trying to keep her tone light, friendly.

It's hard to hide the hurt because she already knows. It's always him.

"Seamus," Lavender answers, grinning broadly and fixing her lipstick in the mirror. "Do you think he'll like the dress?"

"If he doesn't, he's an idiot," Parvati says, forcing herself not to linger too long on the scarlet satin that clings to Lavender's body in all the right places.

Tucking her lipstick into her purse, Lavender pulls away from the mirror. "Don't wait up," she says, kissing her flatmate's cheek before starting for the door.

.

Parvati does wait up. Not in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa with folded arms like an overprotective parent. She waits in her bed, sleepless eyes fixed upon the ceiling, still listening long after two in the morning.

The door closes, and she hears drunken giggling and two sets of footsteps stumbling through the house.

"Parvati might hear," Seamus laughs.

"Nah. She's probably already asleep."

When Parvati finally closes her teary eyes, she falls asleep to the obscene lullaby of a bedframe thudding against the wall.


	2. Rose Red

_"Rose Red, Rose Red, will I ever see thee wed?_

_Only if you can capture me."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Rose Red"_

Narcissa watches her parents. She wonders if they love each other the way parents are supposed to.

"Of course they don't," Bellatrix says. "Blacks don't love."

"Only because arranged marriages aren't about love," Andromeda chimes in, peering up from her book. "No one cares if you're happy or not."

Eight year old Narcissa ponders this, nose scrunching up. "Then I'll never marry," she decides with a slight nod of her head.

Bellatrix rolls her eyes. "You will if Mother and Father want you to," she says. "You're a Black. You have a duty."

"Duty is stupid."

"Better not let Father hear you say that," Andromeda warns.

.

When Lucius Malfoy corners her in the Slytherin common room, kissing her roughly, sloppily, Narcissa pushes him away, wiping her mouth in disgust. "Piss off, Malfoy," she grinds out, adjusting her robes and glaring up at him.

"You'll learn to like it," he says calmly, a smirk twisting his lips. "I'd dare say you'll even love it one day."

"Doubtful," she says curtly, turning on her heel and rushing to the girls' dormitories as fast as her legs can carry her.

.

"Why do you keep following me?" she demands.

"Because I like watching you walk. Your hips sway nicely. Quite the view."

Narcissa grits her teeth, resisting the urge to punch him in his stupid face. She's certain that she hates Lucius Malfoy.

.

"You really should be nicer to Malfoy," Bellatrix says. "He's going to be your husband one day."

Narcissa scowls at the thought. "No. He won't."

"Just wait. His father and our father are old friends. And Lucius Malfoy always gets what he wants."

.

"But Father," Narcissa says, horrified, "I don't want to marry Lucius Malfoy!"

"You will," Cygnus says, and though he speaks sofly, his words are heavy with an unspoken threat. "This is what's best for our family, Narcissa. Is that understood?"

She wants to scream, to throw a fit. The thought of marrying Lucius makes her skin crawl. "I don't love him."

_Arranged marriages aren't about love, _Andromeda had said all those years ago.

Andromeda, who had the good sense to defy their parents and marry for love. Or bad sense, as she had been disowned instantly.

Narcissa wonders if her sister is happy with the Mudblood. Is a world free from family obligations more beautiful than the chains Narcissa now wears?

"Narcissa?"

"Understood, Father."

.

Narcissa tries to ignore Lucius' smug smirk as they exchange their vows.

"I told you you would be mine," he whispers under his breath as he kisses her and seals her fate.


	3. Across the Sky

_"Fear no more the midnight. Fear no more the sea._

_Close your eyes, regret nothing_

_You're safe with me."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Across the Sky"_

"How did you know?" Remus asks, wringing his hands, his face pinched and pained.

"You might be our golden boy of books," Sirius says lightly, "but you're not the only clever one, mate. Eventually, we put two and two together. The time of the month. Every month. Like clockwork."

Remus slumps, visibly deflating. Sirius is unsure how to react. Remus has always been the quieter one, almost timid, but this is unusual even for him. He's never seen Remus look so defeated.

"I suppose you lot will ask to have me removed from the dormitory now, huh?" Remus sighs, and Sirius is certain that he sees tears clinging to the other boy's lashes when he blinks.

"Why would we do that?"

"I'm a werewolf."

"And I'm a Black. You can't help who you are."

Remus laughs, but the sound is dry, bitter, and without humor. "But being a Black doesn't make people hate you on principle."

"Sometimes it does."

Remus looks up, shaking his head. Doubt is lined over his handsome face, and Sirius wants to shake him. Instead, Sirius moves closer, pulling the other boy into his arms. "You've been alone for a long time, haven't you, Remus?"

Remus nods, body tense. "Whenever people began to realize something was... different about me, my family would move away. I was never allowed to get close to anyone to make it easier on me when we left."

"Is that why you're so quiet? You're afraid to get close because it always means leaving them behind?"

Another nod.

Sirius wonders what it must be like for Remus. Such a lonely life.

"I'm not leaving you. None of us are. You don't have to run anymore."

"Sirius-"

"You belong with us."

"You can't mean that," Remus murmurs, trying to pull away, but Sirius tightens his grip.

"I do. Whether you bark at the moon or not, you're still a Marauder. We'll keep you safe."


	4. Castle Down

_"There will come a time when I am stronger_

_Your words won't hurt any longer."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Castle Down"_

His hand strikes Andromeda's face sharply, causing her head to jerk to the side. Andromeda stares up at her father with wide eyes, her hand on the stinging flesh.

She's never known her father to react so physically. Usually, his silence and cold glares are enough to let his daughters know that he is displeased with them.

"You filthy little traitor!" he screams, and Andromeda scurries backwards with her hand still clutching her tender face. "I would have thought better of you!"

"Father, please," she says quietly, no longer a bold seventeen year old but a frightened child, too timid and weak to defend herself. "If you knew Ted-"

"Don't you dare mention that Mudblood's name," he growls, stepping closer, fists clenched. "Have you any idea the shame you're bringing on our family?"

"Father, I-"

"Don't call me that. You're no daughter of mine. Get out! _Out!"_

Andromeda runs, and she doesn't look back.

.

"Andi, your face."

She shakes her head, sidestepping him. "It's nothing, Ted. I'm fine."

"Let me look at it."

Reluctantly, she lowers her hand, totally revealing the angry red mark still painting her pale skin. "It doesn't hurt," she whispers.

And it isn't a lie, really. She doesn't mind the physical pain. What hurts the most are her father's cruel words still fresh in her mind.

Her father is ashamed of her. Her father called her names she never would have thought a parent could apply to a child.

The wounds in her heart sting worse than the one that burns on her face.

Ted pulls her closer, lips gently grazing over swollen flesh. "It's okay," he whispers. "You're free now. You're safe."

Andromeda curls into him, clinging to him desperately. One day, this will all be just a memory. One day, she'll be able to remember what her father said, and maybe she'll laugh.

One day. But not today.


	5. Chambermaid

_"I'm not your chambermaid. You're not my lord."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Chambermaid"_

She's ten years old.

Her mother pulls back her silky blonde hair, tying it into an elegant knot that Druella knows her awkward fingers will never master. "You'll make a fine bride some day, Druella," her mother says, allowing Druella to glimpse into the mirror at her reflection.

Druella stares in fascination at the beautiful girl who looks back at her through the glass. She is transformed from plain to something else, something so above a simple young human girl.

"You're beautiful," her mother tells her. "And beautiful girls have their place."

"What's their place, Mother?" she asks.

"At her husband's side, of course."

.

She's fourteen.

Cygnus rests his hand on her leg, a little to high up for her liking. But Druella doesn't say anything. One day, Cygnus will be her husband, and her place will be by his side to do his bidding.

It's tradition, after all, and Druella is not the type to break tradition.

.

She's seventeen.

Abraxas kisses her, and there is no demand behind his lips. He is soft and kind in a way that Cygnus never is.

"I shouldn't," she whispers, pulling away from him, though her body tells her to stay.

"Why not?"

"In a few months, I will be Druella Black," she says, forcing conviction into her words. "My place is with Cygnus, not with you."

His fingers graze her cheeks before wrapping in her long hair. "Why?"

Druella shivers. His touch does that to her. Cygnus' never does. Not for the first time, she finds herself wishing that she could belong to Abraxas. "Because duty to family comes first. Always."

.

She's twenty.

Bellatrix is sleeping at last, and Druella thinks she might finally have some peace at last.

Cygnus climbs into bed beside her, his lips finding her neck within seconds.

"Not tonight, darling," she murmurs, trying to pull away.

But he grabs her by the shoulders, forcing her closer against him. "You're my wife," he reminds her.

And she closes her eyes as he leads her to the mattress, trying to imagine that she's anywhere but in his arms.

.

She's twenty-three.

"Two children, and still beautiful," Abraxas says, catching her in a kiss.

Druella smiles against his lips, the first true smile she's felt in years. "Two children and a husband," she reminds him quietly, though she doesn't pull away.

.

She's twenty-seven.

"You're my wife."

It's his reminder, driven into her head on an almost daily basis. She is his wife. She has her place. She must obey.

But Druella is tired of all the games, of always playing by the rules because of what is expected of her. She's never been one to stray from sacred tradition, but she's so bored of pretending to be the perfect little pureblood wife.

Cygnus reaches for her, but she grabs her wand, jabbing it roughly into his chest. "I am your wife, but I am me above all else," she says, twisting the tip slightly.

"This is not proper behavior!"

"To hell with proper," she says. "I am married to you. I do not belong to you."

"You carry my name. You bore my children!"

A sweet smile tugs at her lips. "Narcissa isn't yours," she says softly, lowering her wand, and backing away. "Goodnight, lover."


	6. Remember

_"I remember you, I remember you._

_Every other touch runs as cold as ice."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Remember"_

_._

She tries to care for Harry the way she had for Cedric. Maybe she could learn to love him. Maybe, if she really were to try, they could have a future together.

Cho wipes her tears away and forces a smile even though she's still breaking inside. She lets him kiss her, but it feels wrong.

Cedric hadn't kissed her like that. Cedric had been calmer, nervous but still so poised.

.

When they break up, it's almost a relief. Maybe she'd been waiting all along for a reason to explode, to push him away.

It isn't right with Harry. It could never be right.

.

Cho tells herself that Michael will be the right one, even though she knows it isn't true. They are both using each other, both recently out of relationships with the wrong people.

They are unstable, volatile. But she doesn't care.

She lets him hold her and whisper promises in her ear that he will never keep.

Cedric had intended to keep his promises. She's sure of it.

.

When Michael decides that he can't handle her baggage, Cho wonders if maybe that's exactly why she had given it to him in the first place.

.

She lays beside her sleeping husband, insomniatic eyes fixed upon their bedroom ceiling.

Some nights, Cho wonders if she really does love him or if she's only with him because he doesn't remind her of Cedric.


	7. How Strange

_"You know I think it's strange_

_Just a bit deranged_

_That you think I'm gonna change."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "How Strange"_

Alice has hopes and dreams, ever the sweet little Gryffindor optimist. She tells Bellatrix about the beautiful future they can have together, painting such a pretty picture with only her words.

"We could run away, you know. Never look back. Just you and me," she says with a small smile. "Find a nice little house in the country and just live."

Bellatrix doesn't return the smile. Pleasant as the dream may sound, it's just that. A dream. Wishful thinking that will never manifest beyond the younger witch's skull.

"And we could- What's wrong? You're scowling."

"You know I can't do that. I'm joining the Dark Lord the moment I leave Hogwarts."

Alice almost deflates, but she catches herself, a fresh, broad smile on her lips. "You don't have to. It isn't as though you're bound to him, right? No contract signed in blood, no soul sold at the crossroads," she insists. "You could change your mind."

You don't understand how she thinks you could change. You've never shown any interest in her little utopian fantasy. You've always worn your desires on your sleeve, right next to your prejudices. You will join the Dark Lord because you know that it is right.

"I can't."

"You mean you won't," she guesses.

"Yes. And you can't change that."

Alice bites her lip, looking down at her feet. "That means-"

"That I will join the Death Eaters as I've always planned to do. And you will join the order and find some nice bloke who can give you your dream of a pretty house and someone to grow old with."

"We'll have to be enemies."

Bellatrix sighs. "I know."


	8. Heard It All

**Warning: Mentions of implied rape.**

_"You might be special, but it's too late to change now_

_'Cause this isn't the first time I've heard it all."_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Heard It All"_

Lysander whispers such pretty words into her ear, telling her how beautiful she is, how perfect.

Molly smiles along, but she doesn't let herself for it. Not this time. She knows better now.

_Joshua Flint held her once. "You're a fine piece," he told her, pulling her close._

_She didn't want him to kiss her, but she let him anyway._

Lysander tells her that they could have a future together.

Molly almost believes him. Almost.

_Dexter Urqhart once told her he'd give her anything. He carried on with those promises of everything he'd bring her as he lead her down to the bed. The next day, Molly was alone, tangled in bedsheets and regret._

Lysander holds her hand, and Molly realizes a boy has never done that before. No one has ever touched her so gently without any demand in the contact.

_Raleigh Zabini grabbed her by the wrist once. He held her down and silenced her screams with a bruising kiss._

"I can't," Molly whispers, pulling her hand away and shaking her head.

She hates the way Lysander looks as though he's been physically slapped. Maybe he could be special. Maybe he really does mean the words he says.

But Molly will never give him the chance.

She's learned that lesson already.

_"And I can't fall _

_Because you'll try and catch me_

_Never let me go."_


	9. Save You

_"How do I save you from a fate so sweet _

_As being torn to pieces by a loving hand?"_

_-Emilie Autumn, "Save You"_

.

Barty knows that things are different now, that _he_ is different.

His hesitation is gone. All the doubts that had once clouded his mind have faded away, little more than blurred memories in the back of his mind, pieces of himself to be forgotten.

He is more sure now, bolder. The timid little Ravenclaw, the strange Ministry brat from Hogwarts, the boy forever stuck in his father's shadow is dead and gone, and someone new has taken his place.

A monster. Barty knows that there's no denying it. This path that he's chosen has left him twisted, a demented shell of his former self. He embraces this new identity, wearing it like a brand new skin.

But he knows that Regulus has seen the changes. How could he not notice that the innocent boy he'd fallen in love with is something darker, something wrong?

Barty can feel Regulus flinch whenever he kisses him. He can feel his lover pull away but hold him close, a war in his mind made physical.

Barty can only tear Regulus down. He will break him until the other boy is just a warped, just as damned.

But he doesn't want to.

Regulus, his precious Regulus, the only person on this bloody planet that Barty could ever love deserves a sweeter fate than an eternity chained to a monster, bound by their schoolyard whispers of _forever _and _always._

But Regulus will never leave him. Truth be told, Barty doesn't want him to, even though he knows that his love is toxic.


	10. What If

**For the Album Challenge (10/13) and the 10 Characters 10 Prompts Challenge (2/10, Phoebe Black, abrasive)**

_"What if I'm a crowded desert,_

_Too much pain with little pleasure?"_

_- Emilie Autumn, "What If"_

Abrasive.

That's what they call her.

Abrasive, hurtful, far too harsh.

"How will I ever marry you off?" her father asks. "With your attitude, there isn't enough gold in our family to pay off a suitor."

But Phoebe only smiles at that.

She has spent sixteen years building up her walls, being as unpleasant as humanly possible. She has perfected the art of never caring, of sharpening her tongue into a powerful weapon.

She has seen what marriage will do to a woman, has seen how meek and mindless it has made her mother. She will not serve men like that.

"Our bloodline must remain pure. You must-"

"I must do nothing, Father," she says sharply, smoothing her hands over her dress with a dignified huff. "Marriage is far too boring, and you are a mindless fool for advocating it."

She enjoys the way he falters and deflates at that.

Abrasive, they call her. Wicked and wrong with her sharp tongue and painful words.

And Phoebe Black wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
